Blue Hair

Never felt more like myself

Sitting in my sister’s kitchen,

Her dogs pacing circles into the tile around us

She, not a professional, and I, not too worried about losing hair

The dead ends a brassy orange and the roots a fresh, hot yellow

I didn’t bother with the purple shampoo the way I should have

Bottled indigo brilliance spilled onto my scalp and stained the skin on my back

Every pillowcase painted with a little blue splash

Ex lovers still occasionally remember me by the blue strands rediscovered in their cars

Sometimes I will pull out a sweater

And be startled by a blue hair or two,

Fresh tears will sting my eyes.

Now I am letting the natural colors come in,

With a few more greys than I thought I needed to make me wise

There are still days where I miss her,

The girl my blue hair let me be.